


Or Everything

by Thatoneloser_kid



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, solider au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 19:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatoneloser_kid/pseuds/Thatoneloser_kid
Summary: Army Au where Yasha is taken and Beau goes after her.





	Or Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, of course I got in on writing for this fandom...
> 
> If you have any Yasha/Beau, Beau/Jester, jester/Yasha or even all three than send them to my tumblr? Thatoneloser-kid.tumblr.com

If you had asked anyone who had known Yasha they would have told you that the army was the perfect setting for her. And if you asked anyone what Yasha’s greatest accomplishment was they would probably rhyme off the numerous medals and awards she had won for her bravery and selflessness (which, really? The only reason she did half the things she did was because fear didn’t register with her, which meant that what looked like danger to other people looked like a challenge to her. I was honestly just dumb luck that none of her squad had been hurt yet).

 

If you asked Yasha what her greatest accomplishment was she would say it was the fact she hadn’t murdered her bunkmate yet.

 

Her name was Beau, real name Beauregard Colbolt, she was infuriating, and Yasha honestly believed that Beau didn’t think she was capable of murdering her in her sleep (she definitely was) (without so much as a stuttered breath or elevated heart rate).

 

But, strangely, they got along. They balanced each other out.

 

Yasha knew she was emotionless unless that emotion was anger, she always had been and probably always would be, and throughout her life people have always tried to change that. People had always thought she was sick, or needed a shrink.

 

Not Beau.

 

Since the beginning (almost two years ago) Beau had just outrightly accepted every little thing about her, and when Yasha told her that she had an Axis two personality disorder Beau had laugh, shook her head, and muttered ‘I know’ before focusing fully on the enemy soldiers they were currently in combat with.

 

Beau was always there when she had to let off steam, be that sexually or, like right now, exercise.

 

“You know, Yash, I don’t think you could get any more toned.” Beau commented, eyeing Yasha’s toned stomach as she took a bite of her apple, the book in her hand forgotten. She was sitting on Yasha’s feet, her legs either side of Yasha’s body, acting as an anchor as Yasha done her situps.

 

“If you don’t get back to that book I will just use something else as an anchor.” Yasha commented, smirking at the way Beau openly watched the way her abdominal muscles quivered and tensed as she sat up.

 

“I’ll admitted, when you asked me to sit on you my mind went somewhere very different and infinitely more _fun_.” Beau perched her chin on Yasha’s knees, tapping her lips with her finger.

 

Yasha sat up, head butting Beau lightly, though a little harder than she meant too.

 

“What the fuck?” Beau snapped.

 

“Get back to your book."

 

“Why would I do that when I have more… _stimulating_ things to look at.” Beau grinned wickedly at Yasha who, almost instinctively, rolled her eyes.

 

Yasha sat up again, staying there with time, her forehead inches away from Beau, her gaze lingering on Beau’s lips. “The only thing that will be stimulating you, will be those hands of yours.”

 

“And we both know how skilled I am with my hands.” Beau commented in a flirtatious tone. “How about we go for a shower, you are very sweaty?”

 

“You know, I would, but I have a mission to prepare for.”

 

“You have a mission?” Beau frowned curiously, her flirtatious demeanour falling away.

 

“Mhm,” Yasha hummed, leaning back to her hands. “OSS.”

 

“The OSS was a wartime espionage crew, they were disbanded after the second world war ended.”

 

“That’s what they want you to think,” Yasha quipped. “We have a retraction mission a few towns over, high profile target.”

 

“High profile?” Beau quirked an eyebrow at Yasha, gently placing her hands on Yasha’s knees and spreading her legs, crawling through the space she had made, positioning herself in between Beau legs. “Sounds dangerous.”

 

“Maybe,” Yasha shrugged nonchalantly, reclining back onto her elbows, allowing Beau to press her body flush against against her own.

 

“How long will you be away?” Beau whispered, dragging her lips along Yasha’s jaw, down to her neck, smiling against the warm, clammy skin there when Yasha tilted her head back, giving Beau more skin to work with.

 

“They said around five days.” Yasha replied, gripping onto on the open sides of Beau’s khaki green shirt, twisting it around her fists and pulling her closer. “But we know how good I am, I will be back within a three days.”

 

“Mm,” Beau hummed against Yasha’s skin, one hand planted on the floor beside Yasha’s head while the other palmed at her taut skin of her stomach. Beau took Yasha’s earlobe in between her teeth, giving it a little tug before whispering. “Just come back, okay?”

 

“I always do,”

 

“Yeah, you do.” Beau hummed, nibbling down on Yasha’s neck, sucking on the girls pulse point, pulling a little groan from her. After a few more seconds Beau pulled back, pressing a lingering kiss to Yasha’s lips. “How about that shower?”

 

“Don’t do that,” Yasha whispered, staring up at Beau with hooded eyes. “Caring will only get you killed.”

 

Beau stared up at Yasha for a second, a look that Yasha’s emotionally dumb brain couldn’t decipher, before her eyes hardened again and she nodded. “Okay,” She said, her lips pulling up into a predatory smirk. “Shower?”

 

“Beau,”

 

“Come, Yasha,” Beau said as she pushed herself to her feet, smirking over her shoulder as she headed in the direction of the showers. “Is what I will be saying soon.”

 

Yasha tilted her head back to watch Beau leave, shaking her head as she turned onto her front, easily pushing herself up onto her feet.

 

Yasha left for her mission later that night, giving Beau -who was perched on the back of a jeep talking to Molly, Fjord and Jester- a half smile (which, to anyone who didn’t know Yasha would have seemed like some sort of awkward brush off but to Beau, and even Molly, Fjord and Jester, it was an almost affectionate goodbye) as she climbed onto her own jeep and drove off with her small team.

 

“What was that?”Fjord asked, pulling Beau’s attention away from the truck back to the man, an amused glint in his eyes. “With you and Yasha?”

 

“She smiled at you,” Jester stage whispered.

 

Beau tilted her head to the side, a little grin on her lips. “Something you all wish you could get in on.”

 

Molly’s face morphed into a look of disgust, Beau was almost insulted, while Jester nodded in agreement and Fjord just shook his head.

 

“Yasha is like my sister,” Molly said.

 

Beau’s hands gripped onto the edge of the truck bed as she swung her legs, her eyes scanning the camp.

 

“What hasn’t she told us?” Fjord asked, eyeing Beau suspiciously. “You’re worried, you’re never worried when Yasha gets dispatched. What’s different with this mission?”

 

“She’s working with a unit that I thought was disbanded after the war,” Beau admitted and Fjord raised his eyebrows questioningly. “OSS.”

 

“Office of strategic services,” Molly muttered thoughtfully. “Espionage.”

 

“She said her mission was to get a high profile target a few towns over.” Beau explained, “But that isn’t what the OSS did, they didn’t do extractions. They gained intelligence, sabotage, propaganda, but never extractions.” Beau shrugged. “I don’t know, something seems off to me.”

 

“You think she is lying?” Fjord frowned and Jester shook her head immediately. Yasha was a lot of things but a liar wasn’t one of them.

 

“Yasha? No, but I think who ever is head of the operation is withholding information.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” Jester assured. “You know Yasha, she have the same amount of lives as Frumpkin.”

 

“But how many of those has she used?”

 

“You shouldn’t worry, she will be fine.” Fjord assured.

 

Beau tried to take comfort in her friends words in the days that followed, reminding herself that they was right, that even if there was something going on Yasha would somehow fight her way out of it. And it work, for the most part, until she saw one of Yasha’s squad leave to office to the sergeant major.

 

“Micheal,” Beau called, making her way over to him. “When did you get back? Where’s Yasha?”

 

“He didn’t tell you? He said he told you,”

 

“Told me what?” Beau frowned, taking a step closer to Micheal.

 

“Yasha was taken, I was in there demanding we go back for her but he said there was no point, she was probably dead.”

 

“Who took her?”

 

“I don’t-“ Micheal was cut off by Beau slamming him against the wall, her arm pressed against his throat.

 

“Well think.” Beau growled through her teeth. “Who took her?”

 

“I think it was a militia group. They took her because she was head of the mission, so they figured she knew something.”

 

“Does she?”

 

“No. There was something they didn’t tell us, they didn't tell her anything."

 

“Well, obviously.” Beau grumbled. “You think they would bring back a retired branch of the army for shits and giggles?”

 

Beau turned away, marching back in the direction of the barracks, Michael scrambling after her.

 

“She isn’t dead, she can’t be.”

 

“Go away, Michael.” Beau huffed, making a b-line for the gym where she knew Fjord would be, and Jester would probably be nearby.

 

Beau found the duo there, Jester on a machine, lifting with one hand what Beau couldn’t lift with two, a pastry in her other hand.

 

Fjord was off to the left, his arms crossed as he lent against the wall.

 

“Guys,” Beau opened and Jester smiled, her mouth full of food.

 

“Beau, I can bench Fjord.” She said happily, and Fjord shook his head, a tint of pink on his cheeks.

 

“They got Yasha.”

 

Jester dropped her weights with a loud clatter, catching the attention of a few around them.

 

“Who did?” Fjord asked, holding a hand up as he stopped toward Beau.

 

“A militia group, sargent isn’t going after her.”

 

Both Fjord and Jester understood immediately. “Do you know where?”

 

“No, Michael does.”

 

They found Michael outside the barracks, on the floor with his head in his hands.

 

He told them where Yasha was taken, and the direction the group headed.

 

“Sargent said he thinks they’re holed up in an abandoned factory on the other side of the town but he wasn’t sure.”

 

The trio left without so much as a thank you, barrelling into Molly.

 

Molly eyed them for a few seconds. “You’re going after her?” He asked, focused on Beau.

 

“Yeah,” Beau nodded. “And we need someone here to stall them for as long as possible in case they come looking for us.”

 

“I’m nothing if not a distraction,” Molly grinned, but it dropped within seconds and he grabbed Beau’s arm as she started walking past. “Bring her home. Alive, preferably.”

 

Beau stared over at the man, they hadn’t gotten on great in the past but there was one thing they shared and that was their love for Yasha.

 

Beau nodded sharply. “She’s coming back alive.”

 

They headed back to grab their things, waiting for nightfall before sneaking off to one of the jeeps, all clambering inside.

 

“You realise that if we go after Yasha that is considered desertion? Which is punishable by military prison.” Jester said, pushing the key into the ignition.

 

“You don’t think she is worth going after?” Beau frowned.

 

“Oh, I definitely do. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you could go to prison,” Jester shrugged, looking over the duo.

 

“I’ve been in a slum prison in Peru, I’m sure I can handle prison here.” Beau shrugged.

 

“You’re so mysterious sometimes,” Jester shook her head, a little smile on her face as she started up the jeep.

 

They tired the compound Yasha was taken, heading off to the factory when there was no sign of her there.

 

The two guards stationed at the door to the factory told them this was exactly where they wanted to be.

 

“We need a plan,” Fjord whispered as they settled themselves on their stomachs in the high grass.

 

“Get Yasha out.” Beau said.

 

“I was thinkin’ somethin’ with a little more substance. You know? How do we deal with these guards, how do we find her?”

 

Beau was thoughtful for a few seconds before whispering “Die hard,”

 

“I don’t want to die at all,” Jester said.

 

“No,” Beau shook her head. “I’ll take the vents.”

 

“Does that work in real life?” Fjord frowned.

 

“I suppose we will have to wait and see.” Beau said, looking to the two either side of her. “Flank either side, take out these guys quietly.”

 

“How are we-“ Fjord didn’t get the chance to finish before Beau pushed herself to her feet and behind walking toward the doors, lifting her hands when the men levelled their guns on her.

 

“Get down,” the one on the left ordered. “On your knees.”

 

Beau dropped to her knees, her hands clasped behind her head.

 

“Who are you?” The one from before snapped, the muzzle of his gun jamming roughly against head forehead.

 

Beau lifted her eyes and smirked, which was the last thing the men seen before Jester and Fjord snapped their necks.

 

“Took you guys long enough.”

 

“You literally gave us no warning about what was happening.” Fjord threw his hands up.

 

Jester checked the men’s guns but decided to keep her own, also checking their pockets for anything else.

 

They managed to make their way though the factory without much of a problem, only having to take out a few men.

 

They were looking for a closet for Beau to climb into the vents unseen when Jester stopped in her tracks.

 

“Jester-“ Fjord started but stopped immediately when Jester held up her finger, tilting her head a little to the right, listening.

 

“I think,” Jester whispered, moving back and closer to the door just to the right.

 

Beau and Fjord made their way over to the door just in time to hear Yasha’s unmistakeable deadpan voice. “I told you, I don’t know anything.”

 

Jester’s hand wrapped around the handle, but she stopped when Beau placed her own hand on hers, lifting her eyes to look at Beau.

 

Beau shook her head, pointing to herself then to the vent a few feet to the left of the door. She pointed two fingers at her own eyes before pointing at Fjord and Jester, then used her thumb and pinky to point down both sides of the hallway.

 

Both Fjord and Jester nodded, pushing their backs against each side of the door while Beau made her way to the vent, using her knife to quickly, but quietly, open the vent and climbed inside.

 

The vent went down and under the room, and after a few minutes Beau found herself at a great under Yasha’s feet.

 

She couldn’t see anything other than the soles of Yasha’s boots so she started tapping.

 

<i>Taptaptaptap taptaptaptaptap. Tap tap. Taptaptap taptaptaptap. Tap tap.</i>

 

 

Beau knocked Yasha’s name in code. It was a code they had adopted and used to communicate at lights out, or during lunch or during a particularly boring briefing.

 

If Yasha heard it Beau was positive she would know instantly it was her.

 

And apparently she did because she tapped back, spelling out ‘Beau’.

 

“What? When I’m nervous I bounce my leg. What are you gonna do? Tie me up to a bomb? Oh, wait…” Yasha sounded bored.

 

Beau knew that was Yasha’s way of telling her just what kind of situation they would have to deal with after dealing with the men in the room. She asked Yasha how many hostiles there was and Yasha quickly replied with the number and location in relation to the door.

 

“Fjord?” Beau whispered, making her way out of the vent.

 

“Did you see her?”

 

“Yeah, she is in the room, on the far left. There is one guy by the door, to the left, about five foot seven, there will be two more men, one on your three and one on your eleven.” Beau ordered, “But be careful, the hostile on your three is standing behind Yasha, she is strapped to chair with a bomb but she doesn’t think it is live yet.”

 

“No problem,” Fjord replied, shooting the left side of the door, about five foot five inches from the ground, hitting the man on the back of the head before kicking the door open, taking out one of the two men while Jester took out the other.

 

Beau rushed in just as Jester crouched down behind Yasha, surveying the bomb. She was paler than usual, blooded, her lip was split and she had a cut starting from just above her eyebrow down to the corner of her eye, and she was pretty sure she was suffering from a bullet or stab wound to her abdomen. She was sweating, her head hanging limp and she seemed to be using all of her energy to hold her head up, looking at Beau through her eyelashes.

 

Beau rushed over, pulling off her fatigue jacket as she done so, pressing the jacket against Yasha’s still bleeding wound, ignoring the hiss of pain from the woman in the chair.

 

“How is it looking, Jester?”

 

“It is active but it’s simple, I will have it disarmed in no time.”

 

“There’s more of them,” Yasha breathed, “They have to check in ever half hour, once they don’t back up will be coming.”

 

“When did they last check in?” Fjord asked.

 

“I don’t know. I’ve been in and out of consciousness for a while now.” Yasha replied, her eyes running over Beau’s face as Beau focused on getting a better look of the wound. “You guys won’t make it out of here with me.”

 

“Shut up,” Beaucommanded, unsheathing her hunting knife, cutting the zip ties that were holding Yasha’s wrists to the arm of the chair.

 

“You know it’s true. You will have to carry me and any minute there will be a small squad of men here.”

 

“Do any of you have your lighter?” Beau totally ignored Yasha, she didn’t even look at her, prompting Yasha to grab her chin and force Beau to look at her.

 

“What did I say before I left? You can’t care, you are putting the fact that you care before your own life.”

 

“And you are putting the fact they you care before your own life.” Beau shot back, pulling her face away and snatching Fjord’s lighter, heating up the blade of her knife. “You act like you don’t care about anyone but yourself but if that was the case you wouldn’t hesitate to allow us to risk our lives to try and get you out of here.”

 

“Beau, this isn’t the time for this. You are being stupid and doing something dumb be…” Yasha works dissolved into a repressed scream when Beau pressed the heated blade to Yasha’s wound, effectively disinfecting and cauterising the wound.

 

”How long, Jester?”

 

“Few minutes,”

 

Beau glanced in the direction of the door when the sound of foot stepped echoed down the hallway.

 

“You have a few seconds. I can hold them off for a little while but not for long.” Beau grabbed her AK, about to stand up but Yasha grabbed her arm.

 

“Don’t do this, Beau.”

 

“You still owe me a massage, you really think I’m gonna let that slide?” Beaugrinned crookedly at Yasha, giving her a little wink before rushing over to the door with Fjord, kneeling down and peaking out to see how many man were making their was toward them. She could see at least ten. “Jester, hurry, there are too many of them for us to take on our own.”

 

“I’m going as fast as I can, Beau.”

 

Beau peaked out again, levelling her gun on the group coming at them and opening fire, catching two of them before the rest dived behind cover.

 

“Use the bomb,” Yasha suggested, sounding a little to weak of Beau’s liking. “Throw it down and shoot it, many birds one bomb.”

 

“Even inches from death you are still coming up with the best plans.” Beau said, glancing over at Yasha and grinning.

 

Jester worked as fast as she could on the bomb but that still took her almost a minute, which seems much longer when you have bullets whizzing by your ear and you have someone dying on a chair behind you.

 

Beau took a bullet to the shoulder, probably a through and through, but she really didn’t have time to fuss about it so she ducked behind the door, allowing herself to take a few second breather before she was back shooting again, ignoring the searing pain every time the AK kicked back against her. She didn’t have time to be in pain right now.

 

Jester finally finished, throwing the bomb at Fjord who caught and threw the bomb down toward the group, allowing Beau to put a bullet through the bomb. The trio waited with baited breath for the explosion to end and the dust to settle, surveying the damage to assure all the enemy were either dead or incapacitated.

 

“Jesus,” Beau murmured. “There are bits of people everywhere.”

 

“Let’s get her out of here before more come,” Fjord suggested, throwing one of Yasha‘s arm over his shoulder and helping her up.

 

“Or she passes out.” Jester added, tucking herself under Yasha’s other arm.

 

They managed to get a sluggish Yasha into the bed of the truck without too much of an issue, Beau clambering in after her while Fjord and Jester got in the front seat.

 

Beau situated her legs under Yasha’s head to cushion the bumpy ride.

 

“You’re I’m a lot of trouble for coming after me, you know?” Yasha commented, pale and sweaty, Beau was worried. She had seen this look on soldiers before, ones very close to death.

 

“Kinda hopping they won’t know,”

 

Yasha snorted. “Not a chance.”

 

Beau’s eyes softened as she took in the woman in front of her, her hand reaching out to run through her dark hair.

 

Yasha’s eyes, somewhat dazed, flickered up to her.

 

“I’m not worth desertion charges.”

 

Beau huffed our a laugh. “You’re worth so much more than that.”

 

Yasha started to fade, but snapped back when Beau hit her cheek.

 

“You don’t get to do this,”

 

“What, die?” Yasha said incredulously.

 

“Yeah,” Beau said in a ‘duh’ tone. “I have plans, I’m going to go out in a blaze of glory saving you from a mech, don’t fuck that up.”

 

Yasha laughed, but that laugh faded and everything when black.

 

When she came round she was being heaved off of the back of the truck by Molly, Fjord and Jester, and was being rushed off while Beau stayed behind talking to their superior officer.

 

“I won’t tell anyone about this, as far as we know she was dropped off at camp.” The man said, running his fingers through his long hair before pointing at Beau. “Don’t pull shit like this again, okay?”

 

Beau saluted the man before rushing after her, only to be stopped outside the medical wing, anyway.

 

“She needs surgery, internal bleeding.” Jester said. “She’ll be okay.”

 

And she was, of course she was, but she was so busy with recovering and getting interrogated that Beau didn’t see her again for a few days, at the gun range.

 

“Should you be shooting that thing this soon after surgery?” Beau asked, coming up alongside Yasha.

 

“Probably not.”

 

“How are you feeling?” Beau asked quietly, softly, and Yasha felt her heart swell.

 

“Okay,” Yasha nodded. “I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

 

“Oh,” Beau’s eyebrows arched curiously. “About what?”

 

"No one had ever really made me feel anything. Except you." Yasha commented, fidgeting with the safety on her gun, something very un-Yasha-like. She was clearly uncomfortable, and Beau was about to tell her to stop talking about it. That they didn't neee to talk about it, but Yasha spoke up again before she could. "For all I know that feeling could be a burning hatred, but it's definitely different from the nothingness I'm used to feeling."

 

Beau smiled, softly for a second before it turned mischievous. "You couldn't hate me."

 

"Oh, I could. It's highly probably I do." Yasha shot back and Beau laughed loudly.“I don’t know what this is, Beau.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be anything,” Beau assured.

 

“Or?” Yasha questioned, setting her gun down and turning to Beau.

 

“It can be everything.” Beau shrugged. “No pressure, though.”

 

“That sounds kind of pressurey,” Yasha said, but the little smile on her face told Beau she was kidding. Yasha stepped forward, her hands finding Beau’s hips.

 

“Does that scare you?” Beau asked, her palms resting against Yasha’s chest.

 

“Nothing scares me,”

 

“That’s not true,” Beau laughed, but it was quickly swallowed by a kiss, which she happily reciprocated.

 

They headed back after a few minutes, Beau squaring up when Jester announced that she could beat her in a fight, both woman dragging Fjord in to referee.

 

Yasha perched herself on a nearby bench and just watched.

 

“She loves you, you know?” Molly commented.

 

“I know,” Yasha muttered, not taking her eyes away from Beau who was playfully sparing with Jester, who laughed at something Beau had said before taking a swing, just barely missing her head.

 

“Do you love her?”

 

“I don’t know what love feels like,” Yasha admitted with a little shrug. “What I am sure of, though, is that whatever I feel for her, it is different from what I feel for everyone else.”

 

“For you that might as well be love.”

 

“I don’t think I’m capable of love,”

 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

 

“I’m a…”

 

“Emotionally dumb, yes, I know. But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel love. It’s just different for you.”

 

“Since when were you so poetic?”

 

“Shut up,” Molly grumbled, rolling his eyes. “But, for what help this is, you look at her like you love her.”

 

“Then maybe I do,”

 

“Maybe you do,” Molly huffed, turning to the sparing duo in time to see Jester flip Beau to the ground, keeping her there with a sole of her boot to the cheek.

 

Fjord counted it out and Beau hopped out her feet as soon as she was released, yelling about cheating and being distracted.

 

“Well, maybe, you should stop staring at Yasha, maybe.” Jester shot back and Beau blushed, glancing over at Yasha.

 

Yasha could do nothing but smile.

 

Yeah. Maybe this was love.


End file.
